


chase the light

by scriveyner (trismegistus)



Series: Voltron Fic Collection [31]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Background Relationships, Christmas, Fix-it fic, M/M, post-season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/scriveyner
Summary: It didn’t snow, and Lance sat on the new fence and looked at a changed sky, breath steaming the air. He couldn’t pick apart these emotions, didn’t want to, and wondered again if he even could have changed things.





	chase the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RazzleDazzleDrabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazzleDazzleDrabbles/gifts).



The first Christmas wasn’t so bad; mostly because Lance hadn’t realized it was Christmastime at all until it was well past - time had a way of flowing funny on the Castleship, and there were more important things afoot than a simple Earth holiday. The rest of the Paladins didn’t even seem to take notice of the fact that the days had flown by, or that by Earth’s calendar it was well into January by now, so Lance didn’t say anything. He sat alone on the bridge in the deepest part of the ship’s night cycle and watched the silent, still pinpricks of light and wondered how his family had celebrated the holiday without him.

Lance woke up, tucked into his bed, and didn’t think on how he got there.

The second Christmas was even more hectic than the first, falling in the middle of a mission on the jungle planet of Abxi-3, the Paladins running support for Keith and the Blade. Lance spent Christmas morning on the ground with several of the Blade, carrying Pidge on his back because she’d twisted her ankle as they tried to keep their distance from very large, obnoxious, six-legged predators. The canopy was too dense for any of their ships to get through, and they camped the night. Pidge slept against Lance’s side as he sat up and watched the fire; and Shiro sat across from them. “You should sleep,” he said. “Keith and I will take the first watch.”

There was something in his voice that Lance didn’t quite parse, but Allura carried Pidge to bed and Lance didn’t sleep.

Several Christmases came and went in the time dilation, years passing in the breath of seconds. Time lost its meaning. Shiro was different now, silver hair like starlight and a soft expression he didn’t realize he wore when he looked at Keith. Lance didn’t understand why his stomach twisted into knots at that, ignored it, looked to Allura who smiled at him instead.

The next Christmas was the hardest, surrounded by his family and deeply alone. It didn’t snow that year, and Lance sat on the new fence and looked at a changed sky, breath steaming the air. He couldn’t pick apart these emotions, didn’t want to, and wondered again if he even could have changed things.

Would it ever get easier?

Two Christmases passed, two years of memories celebrating friends old and new; Lance opened an invitation from Hunk to visit him off-world, he was hosting at his new restaurant this year. Lance wasn’t going to go until Veronica found the invitation under a magazine and practically bullied him into a shuttle, threatening to get her girlfriend to carry him there over her shoulder if he didn’t - Acxa only looked up from her tablet once to make direct eye contact with Lance, and off he went.

Bone-crushing hugs were Hunk’s specialty, and he spared not an ounce of pressure. “Man, you should call more,” Hunk said, as he pounded Lance’s back and Lance attempted to draw oxygen into his bruised lungs. “We miss you, bud!”

“Farm keeps me busy.” It wasn’t a lie, there was always work to be had. But it was good seeing his best friend again, and Romelle smiled cheerfully at him, looking suspiciously plumper. Pidge almost tackled him to the ground, her head was past his shoulder now and Lance  _ had _ to make an exaggerated gesture about how she’d grown which resulted in a kick that just barely missed his nuts. Even Keith was pleased to see him, as weird as that felt - and James was sitting next to him, not Shiro. Lance gave James a strange look, but was distracted by Coran’s arrival, squeezing Lance harder than Hunk had.

“Good to see you too, Coran,” Lance croaked, and Coran touched his face a moment, fingers brushing the blue marks he now wore before his expression lightened again.

Shiro was the last to arrive, looking slightly harried - Keith got up to give him a hug and the stress seemed to melt from his frame. He patted Lance’s shoulder as he sat down, giving Lance a familiar smile. “Glad you could join us this year,” he said.

He wasn’t wearing a ring. Lance didn’t say anything.

Hunk stuffed them full of amazing food, and there was plenty of drink and merriment to be had. They toasted Allura, and friends gone too soon; Pidge and Keith talked about the resettlement of the Olkari, and a project to terraform Mars, and after a while Lance’s eyes began to cross. Everyone had been so busy, and had so much to share, and it was fantastic and overwhelming. Lance excused himself.

It was cool outside but not cold, and Lance stuffed his hands into his jacket and craned his neck, finding solace in the night sky. The stars here were unfamiliar - but that too bred familiarity, having seen the night sky from dozens of planets by now. Lance closed his eyes.

“Is everything okay, Lance?”

He startled. Lance hadn’t expected anyone to come after him, his family left him alone when he slipped into melancholy - they understood. He turned and looked at Shiro, who had pulled on his own jacket before following Lance outside. “I’m fine,” Lance said, not because it was true but because he believed it. “You should go back inside and catch up with everyone, Shiro.”

Shiro let out a small groan and stood beside Lance, and Lance laughed as Shiro scratched his hand through his hair. He’d trimmed it, lost most of his forelock, and that plus the glasses changed the shape of his face. He looked more like a dad than a military leader, now. Lance realized he was smiling goofily at Shiro and looked away, thankful that the night hid the weird flush on his face. No point in having a crush on your married ex-commanding officer.

“I don’t have much to catch up on,” Shiro said, and Lance looked back at him, but Shiro’s eyes were on the sky now as well. Lance didn’t say anything else, and they stood together in companionable silence.

Winter was long, but spring came eventually. “You have a call,” Lance’s mother yelled from the door.

Lance was surprised to see Shiro on the line. “I’m writing a book,” Shiro said, after they’d exchanged pleasantries - and Lance laughed, unexpectedly. “I didn’t think it was  _ that _ funny.”

“No, it’s just,” Lance waved his hand in the air. “You really are retired, huh.”

Shiro made a face at that, and Lance laughed again.

He wanted to meet up, to talk about what they’d been through. He was supposedly writing a book about their experiences, but Shiro never took notes when they met, sitting at cafes and over dinner, once - but Lance wasn’t too caught up in it. It was nice to talk about things again with someone who’d been through it all and worse.

“Keith’s getting married,” Shiro said one spring day, the sun bright above. “Did you get the invitation?”

He had. It was weird to think about  _ Keith _ married. It was even weirder to be asked to be a groomsman, Shiro hadn’t asked for any at his wedding.

Shiro never talked about his wedding. He never mentioned Curtis. He still wasn’t wearing a ring. Lance didn’t ask.

“That just leaves Pidge, then,” Lance said. “We all know she’s married to her work, though.” He took a sip of his coffee and didn’t miss the look that Shiro gave him, but didn’t bring it up again.

Spring into summer; Lance considered trying to get out of Keith’s wedding but he couldn’t escape it even he tried. Everyone was there,  _ everyone _ , he hadn’t seen so many of the Blade of Marmora since they ran missions during the war. The reception was held outside, dusk turned to night and the breeze ran cool, the first hints of autumn in the air.

“Your dance card seems empty,” Shiro said, handing him a lowball glass full of something amber and sweet. He didn’t take the invitation, and watched Shiro dance with Matt instead.

No Christmas invitation from Hunk this year; a newborn and another new restaurant kept him busier than ever but he called and wished them all a happy holiday. Lance didn’t realize he’d been looking forward to it until the invitation didn’t come, but he put it aside, helped out the family instead. It snowed this year, fresh carpets of clean white and the knock came unexpected on Christmas Eve.

Lance was closest, and opened the door to Shiro on his porch, snow dusting his silver hair. “Shiro,” Lance said, stunned.

“I’m borrowing Lance,” Shiro called over Lance’s shoulder, and Lance turned to Veronica pressing his coat to his shoulders and a  _ Look _ that only a big sister could provide.

“What is this?” Lance said, accusatory, as he was bundled out the door despite his own protestations. Shiro laughed as they walked together, his breath steam in the winter air. “I feel like I’ve been ganged up on.”

“Sorry,” Shiro said, and there was that same joyful, vibrant tone to his voice. “I just - I guess I wanted to see you. Have dinner with me?” he added, hopeful.

“Shiro, it’s Christmas  _ Eve _ ,’ he said.

“Please?”

They ended up in the town Shiro lived in, a short shuttle-hop away; the storefronts and restaurants closed. Shiro lived alone, a small apartment that was more cluttered than Lance expected, but it was a lived-in clutter, homey. Shiro cooked - or at least tried to, Lance ended up doing more of the work than not, and Shiro laughed every time he got scolded.

There was no proper table to eat at so Lance sat on the floor next to Shiro in front of the fire and they ate, and talked, and laughed. Shiro told him, when the fire had burned down to embers, that the paperwork had been finalized and Lance said, and meant it, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. You seemed so happy.”

He didn’t flinch at Shiro’s hand on his face, thumb brushing over his Altean markings. Lance closed his eyes when Shiro kissed him.

Lance didn’t make it home that Christmas.

Hunk offered to host the next year, but Lance insisted otherwise. The farmhouse was old and large, but it was crammed full of warmth and cheer; too many hands in the kitchen and Lance laughed when Matt got chased out by his mother with a spatula. Pidge played with Romelle’s baby, making faces while Keith and Shiro talked about something just out of Lance’s earshot, although Keith was illustrating something with one hand, holding his drink with the other. He turned, distracted by James for a brief kiss as he passed by, playing with Lance’s nephew.

Lance stood against the wall, holding a warm mug between his hands and basking in the organized chaos. Shiro noticed him, off by himself, and his arm floated over, catching Lance’s arm and tugging him gently to Shiro’s side. Lance smiled and came willingly, sliding into Shiro’s space and tucking against him as Shiro’s bionic hand settled on his waist.

Keith nodded at Lance, smiling softly, and excused himself. Lance watched him go, and raised an eyebrow.  “Was it something I said?” he asked, as he turned back to Shiro.

“Nope,” Shiro said. “He just didn’t want to take away from my moment.”

“Your moment?” Lance asked, as Shiro took his hand and without preamble or question, slipped a ring on it. “Oh,” Lance said, softly, his eyes filling with tears.

“Say yes?” Shiro asked, voice just as soft, and Lance raised on his toes and kissed him.

 


End file.
